That Isn't Ladylike
by A Satch in Time
Summary: In the Kanto region during the 1970's, the thought of a female even becoming a pokemon trainer was absurd. Various laws, officers, a psychotic vigilantes prevented women and girls from being able to compete with a team. Death often greeted those who attempted to rebel against this, but Samantha Brown cast these worries aside as she decided to follow her dream.
1. Chapter 1

AN: Hello! Thanks for actually reading this fic. It's my first one, so be nice! I'm hoping to make this a long-ish one, and the rating is a bit high just because I'm not entirely sure what's going to happen with it in the future. Please review, it helps!

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_Seventeen-year-old girl found dead in front of Viridian City pokemon center. She was discovered in possession of her own pokemon team, a crime punishable by 5 years in jail and the releasing of the previously owned pokemon. This murder was most likely the actions of a vigilante attempting to enforce the Trainer's Bill of Rights, article one section 3; no female is allowed to possess their own pokemon for the purpose of battling. It was determined that the teenage girl was visiting from the Unova region, a region that doesn't hold this prejudice, and was unaware of the dangers in the area. The Kanto government would like to remind everyone..._

I put the newspaper back down on the kitchen table and looked over to my mom, who was busy putting up groceries from her latest visit to the Viridian market.

"So the market was pretty empty today. It made shopping easier," my mom said with an unsteady voice. She never looked at me, her long brown hair hiding her face. "Nobody ever wants to go shopping after an incident like that." She continued putting up various boxes of noodles and poffins. I shrugged and continued eating my cereal, looking over at the pidgey softly cooing in its nest by our window.

Mom suddenly whipped around and grabbed me by the shoulders, surprising me as I attempted to shift away from her. Hazel eyes bore upon me; wide, furious, plagued with rage and worry. She trembled, perhaps with rage, anger, or even fear. We stayed like this for a minute until she managed to gather herself back together. "Samantha, why in the name of Arceus would you want to go out and be a Pokemon trainer?!"

* * *

My name is Samantha Brown. I'm a 16 year old girl, and I want to be a pokemon trainer. In the Kanto region, this is the equivalent of saying, "Please shoot me in the head." Ever since I was a young girl, I've wanted to follow in my father's footsteps and challenge the Elite Four. He was a well-known trainer who always walked around-pokeball in hand and glint of mischief on his face-ready for a challenge. Everyone who knew him personally remembers the spark of excitement you could see in his eyes in the heat of battle.

Mom says I got that same look from him.

My mom clung to my shirt when we got a call from the league one night. A gruff sounding old man calmly told us that there had been a terrible accident during my father's attempt at the Elite Four. Of course, we already knew. They had broadcast the entire thing live on the television. He was facing Jacques (an older, red headed elite trainer in the 1970's) and had forced him to succumb to his final pokemon; Dragonite. My father had that spark of excitement as usual, but it was burning brighter than ever. He threw his arm forward, commanding his loyal Luxray (from his travels to Sinnoh) to land the final blow. As the Luxray began charging towards the Dragonite, Jacques quickly yelled at his pokemon to counter it with a Hyper Beam. The Dragonite, completely exhausted, began charging the beam as Luxray got closer and closer. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, until something very peculiar happened. The Dragonite slightly cocked its head to the side while wincing. It was obvious that an injury had prevented it from aiming properly, and it sent a haywire hyper beam across the arena, hitting the ceiling above my father. The battle stopped suddenly, Jacques, the pokemon, and my father looking shocked. Everyone began to run, including the camera man, dropping his camera and leaving it facing my father. The last moment Mom and I saw him was with a ridiculous grin on his face, throwing the rest of his pokemon team-still safely in their pokeballs- out of harm's way, before the ceiling finally caved in. He died later that night, the internal bleeding and a traumatic head injury being too much for doctors to deal with.

At the funeral, many trainers whom we didn't even know showed up to pay their respects-all of them being male, of course. Jacques sobbed hysterically and had to be dragged out of the church by a few rangers, continuously yelling about how it was all his fault. We would later read in the newspaper that he hung himself, leaving a note reading, "I'm so sorry."

As per tradition, should a trainer die in battle, his pokemon would be given to his family for safe keeping. The Pokemon Champion at the time, Samuel Oak, a young man no older than twenty-five who was already aging far too quickly, quietly mumbled the traditional ode to trainers, and held out a small box with six pokeballs lined up in it. My father's trusted team rested there, the very reason he was able to progress so far in his career. All his adventures and journeys rested in there, marking the end of a legend. Mom tried to pull herself together long enough to take the box, only to let out an ungodly cry as she fell to her knees. Mr. Oak closed his eyes for a moment and then slowly shifted towards me. I was only eight years old at the time, so he kneeled in front of me, putting a smile on his stress-marked face.

"Samantha, I need you to take good care of these pokemon, okay? They have so many stories to tell, and I know your father would want you to have them. Can you do that for him?" He placed the box in my outstretched hands and wiped the tears running down my face. "Shh, it's going to be okay." He laughed lightly as he leaned forward and whispered in my ear. "You look just like him, you know? Even now, you have that look in your eyes like he did. I expect great things from you, Samantha." With that, he stood up, patted my head, and proceeded with the funeral.

Ever since my father died, Mom had kept me hidden from the world, as if she was afraid the last thing in her life would be ripped away from her. She pulled me out of school (which I was about to get kicked out of anyway-after fifth grade it became "trainer's schooling," which of course was pointless for girls to attend) and kept me inside the house to take care of my father's pokemon. I didn't mind all that much, I didn't have any friends at school and I would rather play with the pokemon. Little did Mom know, she only drove me to a future goal of her nightmares.

I want to be a trainer. Not only do I want to finish what my father started, but I want to be someone who can say they did it. I want to say that against all odds, I became the champion.

I want to win.


	2. Chapter 2

YOOOOOOOO

Hey guys! Sorry, this update took an ungodly amount of time. Whoops, I'll work on that. And sorry if there are ridiculous errors in here, didn't really get a chance to edit. I figured I was already taking long enough, so yeah...

BUT OMG FIRST FIC AND YOU GUYS ARE FABULOUS LET ME LOVE YOU.

Disclaimer: I don't own the pokemans, or any characters of the pokemans. But I'm sure you already knew that.

* * *

It had been a week since I had announced to Mom that I was going to become a pokemon trainer. She hadn't said a word to me since, let alone even look at me. It was as if she had already thought me dead.

I had just woken up and stumbled into the dining room, still in my pajamas. I wished Mom a good morning, a greeting which I knew wouldn't be returned, as I pulled out a large bag of various poffins and pokepuffs. Mom stood by the sink, scrubbing the already sparkling clean plates. I sighed, and walked over to the front door. I stopped in front of it and looked at the mirror attached to it, hanging in perfect alignment ("A house's cleanliness reflects one's character!" Mom always said).

My eyes were covered in sleep and had bags under them, and my hair looked like it had been attacked by a beedrill. Mom would usually never let me walk out looking like this. Dad, however… I'm not sure. I like to imagine that he would just laugh and ruffle my already messy hair.

Ugh, this hair. It has got to go.

I opened the door only to be blinded by the morning sun. Throwing the bag of food over my shoulder, I made my way to the small pokemon ranch just down the road. We lived on the outskirts of Viridian City, right by the opening of route route one. It was along this route where you could find the ranch, a delightful little place filled with all sorts of amazing pokemon. My father's pokemon currently reside there since we couldn't keep them at the house (that was out of the question since they would make it a mess). However, I visited them everyday. That's actually how I spent most of my days, playing with my father's remaining pokemon. Four of them had already died of old age, including his starter pokemon, Venusaur. Only his Luxray and Arcanine remained. I only hoped they wouldn't leave me anytime soon.

When I reached the ranch, I was happily greeted by the smaller pokemon, mostly rattata. I smiled, they were always so full of energy. I looked past them and saw the owner of the ranch, a middle-aged man named Mr. Fuji. He was very kind and always took care of any pokemon who came up to him. He waved at me, and I eagerly went over to talk with him.

"Hey, lass! Just get out of bed?" he asked chuckling as he ruffled my hair.

"Yeah, I overslept just a bit," I replied, plastering a smile on my face.

Mr. Fuji constantly came to check on Mom and I when my father died, always smiling with some large container of food we never finished. You could say he took me under his wing when my mom pulled me out of school. He let me come to the ranch and help take care of the pokemon, as well as taught me all sorts of secrets about them. He was the only one I confided my objective to. When I told him, he just looked me in the eye with a small smile on his face, and gave me a hearty slap on the back, telling me to let him know when I was ready to get going ("I'm surprised you haven't already run off!" he laughed later that day).

He looked at me with a hint of concern scrawled across his face, then gently placed the meowth he was holding in the hands of his Chansey. "What's the matter? Your mom usually wakes you up to come to the ranch, and you haven't been here for a bit. Did something happen?"

Well, there was no point in trying to keep it from him. I was going to be leaving tomorrow to get my first pokemon, and I'd need his help.

"Mr. Fuji, I want to thank you for helping me and allowing me to work on this ranch for so many years," I said as he began to shake his head. It seemed as though he was starting to put everything together, but refused to believe his final outcome. "But I'm going to be leaving. I'm going to become a pokemon trainer."

He remained silent for a period of time, and all you could hear was the sound of pokemon living on the ranch. Then, after a heavy sigh emitted from his mouth, he placed a hand on my shoulder with a slight smile. "I didn't think you were actually going to do it when you said so all those years ago."

"Oh, well… Yeah, I'm going to do it, and I was wondering if you could help me get ready to take off tomorrow."

More silence. Then, a hearty laugh and a clap on the back.

"Atta girl!" He smiled, pulling me into a hug. "Goodness, already old enough to go on a journey of your own! But first, we need to go over everything I've taught you while you've been hanging around here."

Over the next few hours, he tossed out random trivia facts to test my knowledge of battles, wild pokemon, and survival. We had a couple of good laughs over silly mistakes, but for the most part he reminded me how dangerous a pokemon journey was-even without violent vigilantes looking to kill you.

"If you get stuck on a route and know you won't be able to make it to the next town before nightfall, what do you do?" He asked, rolling a bale of hay inside a pen.

I laughed. "Isn't it more along the lines of what you shouldn't do? Don't continue traveling, don't attempt to battle, and don't light a fire. Use repellent and set up a safe place to rest. Leave a pokemon out to protect the area and alert you."

"Good, good, it sounds like you've got everything down. I'm proud of you." A small smile made its way across Mr. Fuji's face. His face softened, and he placed a hand on my shoulder. "One last question. Are you ready to go on this journey?"

I paused. It was my dream to do this, to finally become a trainer and challenge the league. However, it would be more dangerous, perhaps suicidal, since so many people would be against me. Even my own mother was against me right now. Doing this would break her heart.

But there was no point in putting this off any longer. I was ready.

"Yes, sir. I'm ready."

* * *

I stood at the exit of the ranch, holding dozens of bags filled with items like medicines, pokeballs, ropes, sheets, and three sleeping bags (apparently a lot of pokemon have a tendency to eat sleeping bags). Various papers filled my hands, including a trainer identification form which would be used to get my card. Adventure was right around the corner. The name section was left blank.

"Aye, lass. You're all ready to go. However, you need to set up a very specific plan and alter your identity. Nobody can know you're a girl. Go home, talk to your mom, and once you've got everything sorted out, come back and I'll take you to Pallet Town," Mr. Fuji said as he followed me down the path leading up to the ranch. "You make sure to have everything sorted and loose ends tied, just in case… In case…" He suddenly lost his ability to speak, and turned away. I could see his shoulders shake slightly, but decided to not make mention of it.

"I'll make sure to, Mr. Fuji," I finally said in the most cheerful tone I could manage. And with that, I left for home, still only in my pajamas.

The walk was nice. Groups of Pidgey flew by, cooing as they glided along with the wind. Trees rustled, grass bowed with the breeze, and pokemon happily ran about. Despite the fact so many people were afraid of wild pokemon, they were actually quite nice and sweet as long as you didn't bother them (or give them a reason to bother you). It was relaxing. And I would be able to experience this everyday while traveling as a trainer.

I smiled. I couldn't wait to begin my adventure.

By the time I made it back home, the moon covered the town in a white, soothing light. My house was, however, surprisingly dark. I walked up and threw my bags on the porch, tired from having carried so many supplies. Plus, I didn't want my mom to flip out with more junk in the house. She wouldn't notice these bags until tomorrow morning, most likely.

I opened the door only to find the house dark. That was odd, Mom usually left the lights on at night, no matter what. I switched the lights on, only to find that I wanted to turn them off. In fact, I wished everything could have just stayed dark. Dark was nice. But no.

My mom was lying on the couch, unconscious, and a man with a mask stood over her holding a gun. He turned and looked at me, slowly moving the gun towards me as well.

"You want to become a pokemon trainer, eh?" he questioned, shuffling his way towards me. "Damn girls like you sicken me. Fucking scum." He finally stood in front of me, gun now jammed into my cheek.

His voice. It sounded familiar.

Wait. No way. It couldn't be him.

My mailman was about to kill me.


End file.
